Hell on Earth
by DrCrane1048
Summary: A new revolution is sweeping across a young America. The north is working towards the future and is looking for workers to get it there. Looking for a new start, the Blacks wait at the train station to travel to Manhattan where their new lives wait for them.


**This man's whole life is one big headcanon. Also, if anything seems historically inaccurate, let me know.**

Chapter One: Three Days to Manhattan

We hadn't even left California yet, and I was already starting to miss the place in which I called home for so long. Ma, Joseph, David and I stood waiting for the 5:00 train to roll in, my left hand in Davids right and my left hand holding a small brown ticket reading, "Early morning express, third class, seat 7B. Sacramento to Manhattan." On the slip, it showed a small illustration of the big black locomotive in which we were all to board soon. The clock hanging above the ticket booth reading 4:47, it wouldn't be long now. I bent forward a little to gaze down the track, seeing if maybe I could spot it coming by, but David pulled on my hand, his non-verbal way of telling me not to, and to stop.

He had not spoken a single word all morning, not so much as even a good morning. We would be leaving our hometown of Sacramento, California to find life anew in Manhattan, New york. Ma said that a new age was coming along, and with it, new jobs and new potential, saying that Manhattan was a place to go if you were looking for such a deal. New homes, new jobs, and that would call forth new residents, just as the gold rush had done for others here in California. I held on to my hat and let out a yawn, I could feel myself growing restless as time stretched on. I tried to focus on something, the footsteps of others and their idle chatter, the smell of smoke in the air, with the sounds of whistles going off close by. As the clock struck 4:48, I let out a groan and pulled on my brothers hand. Pale blue eyes seemed to glare at me through brass framed round glasses. "David, what's Manhattan like?"

David looked away from me, continuing to stare straight ahead. Joseph heard me ask my question and waited for his reply, knowing that when David was known to go silent when in thought, but when it was clear he had no intention to answer, Joesph did so for him. "From what I heard, there's a lot of factories there, and tons of workers and buildings much taller than what we got here. It's a real boom town." "Are there other kids there?" I asked, to which Joseph nodded. "You'll meet a lot of other kids there, I'm sure." With Davids unwillingness to talk, I let go of his hand to hold Joseph's, our conversation making time go by much faster. He looked down at me, thin lips forming a soft smile. Instead of holding my hand, he draped his arm around my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. "You excited about goin' to Manhattan?" I nodded. "I'm gonna miss our house, though. I liked havin' our own rooms." My brother gave a chuckle, "yeah, we're probably gonna hafta share a room now, but we'll be okay." He nudged Davids' arm. "Gonna hafta get used to this one snorin', though. Whenever he passed out in the attic in his little workshop, I'd always hear him. Joseph imitated his younger brothers snore, breathing in through his mouth with a snort, and exhaling through his nose with a deep sigh. Blue eyes met green ones with a cold, hard stare. It was clear David wasn't in the mood for Josephs comments about his snoring, nor my laughter at the sounds I had never heard come from a human being. Ma noticed, and she snapped at all of us. "Behave, all of you." She moved her hair behind her ear, impatience beginning to grow, both for us and for the train. She glanced behind her at the clock, the hands reading 4: 59. "It should be along any minute now, boys." She sighed, looking at the dark sky, a few stars shining above her, the moon nowhere in sight. After a beat of silence, she spoke again. "I'm gonna miss California." There was a mutual understanding, not one of us was really happy to be standing where we were, and we hated to leave it behind as we were doing now. "We'll all be alright, Mama, we got our whole lives ahead of us." Ma hugged her oldest from the side. "I sure hope so." Green eyes began to fill with anxiety worry setting in as to what just what awaits in our new home. The clock struck 5:00, and I stuck my head out as more people approached the edge of the station. Our train was right on time, smoke rising from the top, and steam rising from the bottom. We each reached for our bags as the train stopped inches in front of us. A small white man wearing a blue conductor uniform with a brown mustache across his lip gave all aboard, and one after another, my family climbed up the steps into the car. He asked me for my ticket, to which I gave him, and he gave it a hole punch, a grin barely visible under his whiskers. "Like your hat, son. Seems like it's a big too big for you, though. Your Ma get it for ya?" I shook my head. "My Pa." "Well your Pa has some good taste." With that, he let me on board and hole punched the ticket of the man behind me.

David would be sitting next to me, taking the outer seat with me by the window. I could see others board the train, and see my brothers reflection and my own against the glass. Funny. With my hat on, I seem to look almost just like Pa. I could see his eyes in my own, my hair just a shade lighter than his. At first, I smiled at such a reflection, but reality set in, and it slowly faded away. I could feel my face begin to grow warm, and a stinging sensation formed in my eyes. I removed the hat and set it on the floor of the train. The whistle sounded and the train began to make its way forward with a huff. The gravity of our situation weighed down heavily on me, and as I looked out the window at the California landscape, the vast fields, the river we lived next to, the house we had called home since I was born wasn't going to be found in Manhattan. We were going to a new state, a new city, with new people working towards a new age, and the thought of it all seemed so overwhelming to that of an eight-year-old boy. A tear found its way out of my eye. David noticed me put the hat down and looked over at me. He tapped my shoulder, concern growing in his pointed face at my sorrowful expression. "This is really happenin', ain't it?" I asked. "We're really leavin'." I gave forth a sniffle. "I don't wanna leave, David. I really don't wanna." With that David had done just as Joseph had done back at the station, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, his head resting against mine. "I know, Erron. I know."


End file.
